


The Rules Of Survial

by liquidheartbeats2



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidheartbeats2/pseuds/liquidheartbeats2
Summary: Iris West ends up homeless after having to take on the expense of her late father's medical bills. Crossing paths with Barry Allen, a CSI changes things. But will it be for better or worse?
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

Iris West was walking briskly, head up, chest pushed out, with a scowl on her face that could deter the devil himself from approaching her. In her right hand was cell phone with 911 pre-dialed, in case she needed to alert the authorities. In her left, a thing of pepper spray -- in the unlikely event that her act proved to be for naught.

In about ten minutes, if no hoodlums felt entitled to the essential possessions she’d crammed into her large tote bag, the 100 or so dollars stuffed in her bra, or the womanly essence in between her legs, she would soon be safe, laying out on her freshly washed beach blanket in the cool grass, quenching her thirst with the ice-cold water she’d just stolen from her job.

As the last slivers of light were snuffed out by darkness, she would settle into the ditch deep inside of the abandoned park, located behind a row of tall, wide trees (they acted as a natural wall between her and any passerby's) and use her flashlight to read the last three chapters of her latest book obsession --her treat for getting through another week. 

Alive and well, spirit not torn to shreds. 

To most people, this wouldn’t sound like much to celebrate over, but for Iris, who’d been living on the streets for the past year since her father died, it was akin to winning some prestigious journalism award, or at least securing a full=time position at CPPN, instead of a barely paid internship. It meant that she was now one week closer to getting her life together, to not being homeless anymore. 

To really living again. 

On the streets, only the strong -- in mind, body, and spirit-- survived.

It was absolutely essential to celebrate the small stuff, otherwise the constant jumping over hoops wouldn’t feel worth it, and she’d end up giving up. And she couldn’t ever give up. 

Her father's dying plea was to see her finish journalism school, and go on to become the writer he always knew she could be. Thankfully, she’d gotten school out of the way. And if all went well with her CCPN internship, she’d have a real, full time job in a few months. 

But the hospital bills her father left behind didn’t leave room for her to afford an apartment, or any other kind of permanent housing. 

So Hunter Park it was. 

Not exactly ideal for a 25 year old woman. 

Or anyone for that matter, but she got by. Aside from the fact that she had to pass through the less-than-stellar part of town to get it to, it had actually turned into her own personal sanctuary. 

Located on Central City’s city limits, not many people, if any, frequented it anymore, which meant that she pretty much had the whole thing to herself. Due to a loophole, the City hadn’t been able to bulldoze it yet like so many other parks, which meant that it still received semi-regular maintenance -- usually during the day when she was at her soul-siphoning job.

In the little corner that Iris had made her home was a public water fountain, which meant she was able to keep herself clean on days she didn’t feel like making the trek across town to the gym. That’s during months she could actually afford the membership. 

Dollar store shampoo and conditioner had all but ruined her beautiful hair, but what good was hair if she was starving? 

Rule number one to Iris’s survival? 

Food came first. 

Before everything. 

In some cases, before even medicine. 

Iris had to stay fed, because the physical agility needed to make it out there was unfairly high. 

For starters, Iris walked everywhere she went because she simply couldn’t rationalize paying $50 a month to ride the bus. That was 16.7 percent of the monthly stipend she received from her internship.

That's why Iris never turned down a donut or cup of coffee at work. She took seconds and thirds at the catered lunches, and at the end of the day, she ransacked what was left, and brought it with her in her work bag.

She also never turned down food from her father’s cop friends -- one of the only things she’d accept from them. Well, perhaps except from their voluntary patrolling of the area to make sure that no new gangs or anything had settled into this part of town.

Yes, they knew Iris was homeless. 

Yes, they’d tried to find her shelter. 

Yes, she’d turned them down. 

And yes, her father was probably - no definitely - turning over in his grave because she’d inherited his stubbornness. But Iris was not a charity case and was determined to get through this rough patch on her own.

************************************************************************

When Iris made it through the bad part of town, unscathed, she smiled.

For this to have been a Friday, there was barely anyone out. 

Another small victory. 

She’d had a hellishly long week at CCPN. 

As the newest Summer Intern, she’d been on her heel-clad feet for the past 8 hours, running errands, pouring coffee, kissing ass. It was beyond exhausting, but she knew that if she played her cards right, she’d have a job when all was said and done. 

And she’d no longer have to stuff her heels into her bag at the end of the day, in favor of tennis shoes. 

As she entered the North end of the park, she took a moment to monitor her surroundings and ensure she hadn’t been followed. 

Or that no one was watching her from afar. 

Iris pretended to look at her phone, as if she was searching for directions, or answering a text message, then casually turned until she’d scoped out the area a full 360 degrees. 

If someone had been watching, she didn’t want them to know that this park was the place where she laid her head at night. 

Survival rule number 2?

Iris always protected her shelter. 

Yes, even abandoned parks. 

Because the thing most important after she made sure she was well-nourished and hydrated was that she had a place to let her guard down at night -- a place to reenergize. A place that, preferably, was hidden from public view, and gave her an air of security.

Iris was well aware that not everyone had the so-called luxury of their own park to call their home. She’d lived out the first couple of months out there, bouncing from alley way, to park bench, but she would apply this line of thinking to wherever she’d ended up.

She’d found a little slice of serenity, out in the cold, hard world, so she held it close to her chest.

When Iris made it about 30 or so feet from her little ditch, she stopped abruptly, her smile falling flat clean from her face. Her eyes narrowed, because even in dimly the street-lit area, she could see a figure laying out on the ground. It was a man, who knew how old. He was covered in blood and, presumably, bruises, his chest heaving up and down, at a rate that led her to believe he ran all the way there. 

“Fuck,” she thought to herself, but dared not say aloud, just in the case he was down, but not completely out. 

She crouched down behind a trash can, and pulled out her phone, contemplating whether or not she should call 911. Call her cruel, but if he ended up dying, or was connected to some crime, Hunter Park would end up all over the news, crossed off with police tape. 

By morning, it’d be full reporters -- some from the very Paper she worked at -- looking for clues. She couldn’t have that, because having this park to herself was one of the only things keeping her going. 

Iris’s third survival rule? She didn’t get involved in stuff that didn’t directly concern her. A mugger stealing a lady’s purse? Someone getting bludgeoned behind an alleyway? 

No, not even then. 

It might have sounded cruel, but that mindset was essential for Iris’s survival. No matter what kind of shit she came across, she always kept walking, hoping that the people doing the attacking didn’t turn their sights on her. 

When she was a safe distance away, she would then call for help, but she never intervened. This rule had mostly kept her safe since she’d been out there. The one exception she ever made was when she came across a man attempting to assault a little old lady, who’d taken a wrong turn during her neighborhood walk. 

Rule number four? 

Iris didn’t allow life on the street to rob her of her humanity. 

Kids...and the elderly? They were of0 limits. And no matter how dire Iris’s straits, any person who could overlook someone preparing to pounce on the most vulnerable members of society, well they weren’t worth the skin that covered their bones. 

She came out of that situation with a black eye, and sprained ankle, but it was worth it because the woman spent the night at home in her warm bed, instead of God knows where.

And the man ended up off the streets, safely in jail.

This guy lying on the ground, though, he didn’t fall into either category. As he tried, and failed, to push himself off of the ground, she caught a clear glimpse of his face. 

He was young. Really young. Around her age. Pale White skin, looked to be about 6 ft tall, could use a few good meals. 

When he fell back onto his back, Iris sighed of relief, pushing her phone into her pocket. If he couldn’t even stand, there’s no way that he could hurt her. Iris was no medical professional, but she had a working knowledge of first aid and a kit in her bag, which she kept with her at all times. She could help him get stable enough to walk down a few blocks, then she could call the paramedics, so he could get help.

Iris said a silent prayer, hoping that the tingling in her bones that was telling her not to go near him was just paranoia, then walked over to him. 

When he noticed her approaching, he tensed up. The gash underneath his right eye became more visible with each step she took. It was surely clouding his vision, and he was probably trying to figure out if she was one of the people who attacked him. 

His face softened when he realized that she wasn't.

“Hey, what happened to you,” Iris asked, standing over him from a semi-safe difference.

“Help,” he groaned, clutching his chest. “Help me.” 

His voice barely registered itself above a whisper as he again attempted to push his body up from ground. 

He was wearing a gray T-shirt and jeans. 

The exposed areas of his body were covered in dark, purple bruises. The gash underneath his right eye was a nasty one -- jagged and deep -- and if he didn’t get medical attention soon, it would get infected really fast out here in the elements. 

Iris slid her bag off of her shoulder and pulled out the liter bottle of Evian water she’d planned on drinking over the next 12 or so hours. The water fountain in the park was fine for cleaning herself, but it tasted God awful. She usually stole water from the office to supplement. 

So much for that.

Iris then took the beach towel she was planning on sleeping on tonight, rolled it up, and placed it underneath his head. He groaned when her hands made contact with the back of his head, and soon, she could feel the warm trickle of blood on her fingers. 

_God, please don’t let him have some kind of infectious disease_. Iris knew better than to deal with some stranger’s body fluids without gloves, but remember that thing about her not losing her humanity? She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t help him.

Iris couldn’t very well explain it, but there was just something about his eyes that let her know that even if he wasn’t badly injured, she wouldn’t be in any danger.

Propped up slightly on the makeshift pillow, Iris removed the top from the bottle of Evian, and held it up to his mouth. The water wouldn’t heal his wounds, but it would lubricate his throat a little so he can speak a little clearer, so she could find out what happened to him. His clothes weren’t worn, dirty or, tattered. So it’s not likely that he’d been out on the streets, too. 

Then again, no one could tell from looking Iris that she’d been homeless for a year either. 

With her other hand, she dug down into her tote bag and found the first aid kid that she’d bought about three months ago. Fortunately, she hadn’t had to crack it open. Unfortunately, it looked as if she was going to have to use the majority of it on cleaning this stranger’s wounds. 

As he drank, eagerly and incessantly, she tore the plastic from around the little red container with her teeth. Inside of it was gauze, twenty or so different sized bandaids, a six ounce bottle of rubbing alcohol, wound wipes, cotton balls and petroleum jelly.

Iris gently removed the water from his lips, and he moaned, barely managing to lift his head to follow the path of the water. “You can have more in a minute,” she said, before retrieving the bottle of alcohol from the kit. “I need to clean these cuts.”

She opened it, then dug inside the compartment of her tote bag for some napkins she stole from work, saturating them with the alcohol.

“This is going to burn,” she said gently.

The man didn’t say anything, but looked up at her and nods, before pressing his eyes tight. She placed the cloth underneath his right eye, right on top of the large gash, and wiped away the excess blood which was already drying. 

He groaned in pain and she apologized again, though a little burning was better than contracting an infection that would probably end up leaving him blind. Iris then used her strength to help him sit up. He looked thin, but he was much heavier than she anticipated, almost falling over from the force of trying to pull him up. 

“Agggh,” he groaned again, clutching his chest. 

In Iris's opinion, he had at least one to two cracked ribs. It was that moment she realized that he needed help beyond what she could give him. There was absolutely zero possibility that she’d be able to walk him down the block before calling for help.

So much for her sanctuary at Hunter Park. 

Iris gently let him fall back onto the towel, and he looked at her, perplexed. “I’m going to call 911. Your injuries are really bad, and I don’t think I can do much for you.”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Noo,” he groaned. “Please”

“Why?” She asked, wondering if she’d misjudged him. If he didn’t want medical care, surely he was criminal or someone who'd been doing something he shouldn’t.

When he didn’t respond, she asked again, tone clear that she was going to call the police if he didn’t give her a good reason not to.

“Please. Call. Star Labs,” he pushed out harshly, a painful hoarseness coating each word.

“Star Labs? The world-class science center? What can they do to help you?”

“Tell...them...Fl--” he started, dizziness trying to overtake him. “The Flash--” he managed, before his eyes rolled back into his head.


	2. Chapter 2

##  **Early Saturday Morning**

Barry Allen pushed open his heavy eyes, and the bright fluorescent lights of STAR labs made their way into his field of vision. He squinted, but he could still see his two best friends, Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon were standing on either side of him, wearing hopeful smiles.

“What happened to me?” He asked as faint piercing pain pinged nearly every nerve in his body.

“You got your ass kicked, that’s what happened,” Cisco answered, oddly jovially. “We really underestimated Danton Black’s strength.”

“No, that’s not it,” Barry said, his memories resurfacing in fractions. He should have never gone to that warehouse alone. “There were like 10 of him, he can multiply, I was ambushed.” Fucking asshole.

“For real?”

Barry nodded.

“That explains the extent of your injuries,” Caitlin offered. “You had three cracked ribs, a deep gash under your eye, and a concussion; be thankful of the fact that you heal fast.”

“And for that hot woman who called us for you,” Cisco added, before stuffing a lollipop into his mouth.

“Hot woman?” Barry asked, brow raised. “What woman?”

“Oh, um,” Cisco said, as he searched for the remote to the security feed. He clicked the monitor on, and rewound the recording until he found a clear shot of her face. “This woman. Name’s Iris.”

Barry’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. Beautiful brown skin, almond-shaped eyes, jet black hair, pulled high into a bun. She was wearing a plain, v-neck t-shirt, Black slacks, and what appeared to be tennis shoes, standing right next to him on the gurney. 

“Beautiful right?” Cisco asked, catching the intensity of Barry’s staring.

He looked between Cisco and Caitlin, whose faces were housing sly grins. Cheeks now tinged pink, he changed the subject.

“Oh-um, Where did she find me again?”

“Hunter Park. You don’t remember any of that?”

He shook his head. “The last thing I remember was getting stomped out by 10 Dantons before I distracted them just long enough to speed away. Everything after is a blur.”

“She tried to clean your cuts, but realized you needed real medical help,” said Cisco.

“So how did I end up here?”

“Apparently, she offered to call 911 but you told her to call STAR Labs before you passed out.”

“Which was smart by the way,” Caitlin interjected. “We can’t have outsiders finding out the scope of your abilities. It’s only been about three hours, and you’re 85 percent healed.”

“STAR Labs? Me?” He asked, pressing a hand against his forehead. He was drawing a blank. “I almost gave up our cover?”

Cisco chuckled. “Almost? You outright told that girl you were The Flash, dude.”

“Did I?” Eyes wide, he looked back and forth between Cisco and Caitlin, mindlessly scratching his temples.

“Yeah, don’t worry though. She just thought you were out of it.”

“She didn’t believe me?” _Thank god._

“No, I asked her exactly that. She said, and I quote, ‘No. Do I look like an idiot?’”

“It was actually quite funny,” Caitlin added, laughing.

Cisco laughed. “Right? She was probably like ‘If this pathetic schmuck is The Flash we’re all fucked.’”

“Hey! I get it. Alright,” Barry pushed himself up from the gurney he was laying on and swung his legs over the side.

“What’s wrong dude?”

“Oh, it’s just good to know that I have the exact same luck with women when I’m knocked out, as when I’m wide awake.”

Barry sighed. His entire life, since he was young enough to understand what love was, he yearned to have someone to love him the way his parents loved each other. But he’d had awful luck with women between Becky Cooper, his first love, and literally every single women he’d dated since.

Caitlin took a seat next to him and rubbed a thoughtful hand across his shoulder. Barry looked up at her and sighed.

“Please, Cait. Not the wimpy ‘you’re gonna find someone’ talk. I always feel like peak schlub when you give it.”

She smiled somberly. “Okay. I won’t give it. But you are going to find someone,” she said unable to help herself.

Barry rolled his eyes.

“And hopefully, it will be before your manly bits start sagging the ground,” Cisco added.

“Um, Gross!” Barry and Caitlin said at nearly the same time, shooting the engineer a look of disgust.

“Sorry?” He said, humping his shoulders. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much about striking out with this girl.”

“Why?”

“I think she’s a klepto,” Cisco said, in between gnawing on his lollipop.

“Klepto?” Barry asked brows scrunched.

“Oh well, Iris rode with us here, stuck around a few minutes to make sure you were okay, then asked to use the bathroom. She was gone for like 15 minutes. I went to go check on her, and found her in the supply closet, stuffing a STAR Labs blanket into her bag.”

“Didn’t say anything because, of course, we were grateful that she didn’t just let you die out there, but it was quite odd,” Caitlin added.

“Not that odd. All the beautiful ones are crazy.” Cisco said, chuckling.

“Maybe she just wanted some merch? It’s not every day that regular citizens get to come inside of this place.” Barry said, trying to rationalize things.

Even though STAR Labs had become a giant black scab on Central City’s shoulders, since the Particle Accelerator exploded, there was still intense interest in the place. People were oddly mesmerized by the establishment that had been responsible for turning that had once been a quiet, peaceful city, into the crazed meta-filled world it was now. The place that had created him, and given him his speedster powers. The place that had turned him into a hero.

Cisco humped his shoulders. “Who knows man. What’s so funny is that she was so busy stealing from us, she forgot her cell phone.”

Barry’s eyes lit up. “You have her cell phone. Which means, she’ll have to come back. Here?”

“Or we could just drop it off at Picture News. She’s an intern there.”

Caitlin perched her hand on her hips and glared at her friend. “Cisco!”

“What?”

“You weren’t supposed to go through her phone.”

“Ehh,” he said, waving away Caitlin’s criticism. “It was the only way to find out how to return it.”

“What I wasn’t supposed to do,” he added, “was go through her messages. But if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have found out that she doesn’t have a boyfriend right now.”

“Really?” Barry asked, intrigued, his face dropping when he noticed Caitlin scowling.

“Nope. I didn’t see a single ‘sweetie’ or ‘baby’ or ‘honey’ in the lot.”

##  **Monday Morning**

“Iris,” you’re late.

“I know, I know.” Iris pushed further into CCPN’s newsroom. “I lost my phone, so my alarm didn’t go off.”

Linda Park, the editor assigned to mentor Iris during her internship, looked her up and down, at the crinkled, cotton dress she was wearing, frizzy roots that had swelled to proportions no amount of dollar store hair gel could tame.

“That’s why you look like hell??”

“Sorry,” Iris said, swiping her hand over her head to tame her flyaways.”

It had been extra humid the previous night and she had sweated all night long. Because she’d been late, she hadn’t had time to swing by her dad’s friends house to do her proper grooming before work. It was where she kept her work clothes, and the few essentials she’d held onto, since transitioning to street living. All she’d had time for was a quick bird bath in the park before sunrise.

“My apologies. It won’t happen again,” Iris said, looking down at her feet.

“Let’s hope not. You’re a good writer, Iris. But presentation is just as important as your skills.”

Iris nodded. “I understand.”

“Good.” Linda turned and headed for her desk at the back of the newsroom. Iris followed behind, silently kicking herself for misplacing her phone.

These days, you could get a cheap smartphone for less than 100 bucks. A data plan for around 50 dollars – not a lot of money for someone with a stable job. But for her, it would be almost impossible to replace it without cutting into food money. And she was already just barely getting by.

“Now, your pitches.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, I mean. They were on my phone.”

“And they weren’t backed up on your personal laptop?

 _You mean the one the city owns at the Library?_ “No, I didn’t see the need.”

Linda shook her head from side to side and wrote something down in Iris’ intern evaluation binder. Couldn’t be anything good.

“Look, Linda I-.”

Linda raised a hand. “Iris, I don’t mean to come across as cold, but there are 10 other girls who want this job just as badly as you do. I honestly don’t care about what happened. Just Do better.”

“Now,” she added, “since you don’t have any pitches planned for this week, you can pick from my scrap pile.

“Scrap pile?”

“Editor speech for shit I don’t want to write myself. Because you showed up unprepared, I’m going to assign you an extra story on top of your original story by next week.”

“Just what I need,” Iris thought to herself. More work. More time stuck here with Linda’s rude ass, without the prospect of getting paid overtime. Interns, obviously, weren’t afforded that

“Thank you for understanding,” Iris said, aloud, hiding her annoyance.

“Think nothing of it; just don’t make me use these muscles again.”

Iris nodded, lips pursed.

“Now, about the phantom pitches. You may not remember them word for word, but we can still work on your ability to find stories based on the topic. Give me a general overview.”

“Oh, well, one was about the lead contamination in the south part of the city.”

“Blah,” Linda said, not to Iris but to her notepad, as she jotted down more notes.

“Okay, um. The other two were about the elder abuse at Central City’s biggest nursing home, and the new school-“

“Oh God. I’m falling asleep,” Linda said, pretending to nod off. “Don’t you have anything exciting? You haven’t even popped your writer’s cherry, but you’re already writing like an old fart.”

Iris racked her brain, trying to think of anything else she could offer her editor, who had little to no tact, but honestly, with everything that had been going on, she hadn’t been at the top of her game.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “That’s all I have for now.”

“Good thing you lost them. They’re unusable.” Linda glanced up at the clock. “Look, I’d love to help you with this today, but I have a meeting in about 5 min that I need to brief myself for.”

“Okay,” Iris said, relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with Linda anymore for at least the next two-three hours.”

Iris stood and turned to leave, noticeable frustration in her gait.

“West.”

“Yes Ms. Parks,” She asked, turning back towards her boss.

“Think of biggest, most prolific personality in this city. Someone who wouldn’t give an intern the time of day. Make them fall in love with you, and tell you all of their business. You do that, and you’ll have a story..”

##  **Friday**

It was nearly 9 pm when Barry Allen made it to Picture News the following Friday. Between his job at CCPD, and, like, saving the world, he hadn’t been able to find the time until now; even though he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the gorgeous woman who’d saved his life.

He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. And klepto or not, he had to see her in person.

He stood, perched outside of Ada’s bakery, across the street from the station. Though he’d been inside of Picture News a few times as The Flash, he knew that Barry Allen, a regular old citizen, wouldn’t be welcome inside. So he’d decided to wait until the journalists trickled out one by one at the end of the work day, hoping to run into her.

He checked his phone. 9:25. He sighed. He’d already been there for almost an hour, and there was no guarantee that she even worked on Mondays, or that she hadn’t already gone home.

Barry smiled wistfully when he finally saw her – or who he thought was her –heading towards the exit. A deep breath followed a quick once-over of his reflection in his phone. He inhaled and exhaled harshly as she got closer and closer to the door, wanting to make sure that he looked presentable before approaching the woman who had saved his life. Iris. What a beautiful name. But not nearly as beautiful as she was.

When she made it out of the building into the direct shine of the outdoor lights, he was absolutely positive that this was her. She was dressed in jeans today, and a beautiful peach colored blouse, with short, ruffled sleeves. Her hair was down with half of it pulled back off of her face. That same beautiful face which had etched its way into his mind, and though he didn’t want to admit it, his dreams too.

On her shoulder was a large tote bag, which looked way too heavy to be comfortable, but she was walking like it was no trouble.

Halfway down the sidewalk, he called out to her. First faintly. He shook his head when she didn’t respond. Louder this time, he said, “Ex-Excuse me, ma’am.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned.

He took a step towards her. “Is your name Iris?”

“Do I know you?” She asked, a wicked scowl on her face.

Barry stepped back, so as not to alarm her, raising his hands. “No, no, not exactly. I’m Barry Allen.”

“Okay?”

“Oh,” he said, kicking himself for being so flustered. “You saved my life the other night.”

Iris tilted her head to the side, surveying his face. “Oh my God,” she said, face softening. “You’re the guy from the park. ”

“Yes! The guy from the park,” he said, relieved.

She shook her head, an empathetic smile overtaking her face. “I’m sorry, didn’t recognize you without all the blood on your face.”

“I understand. I just wanted to say thank you for calling my friends for me and riding with them to make sure I survived. I know we’re strangers, but it really means a lot.”

Iris shrugged. “Yeah, well. Strangers can look out for each other too. Wait. How did you know where I worked?” She asked, her suspicious nature overtaking her. There was an overwhelming innocence radiating off of this man who had to be in his mid-20s, but she could never be too sure.

Barry nodded. “Oh,” he said, fumbling around in his pocket. He stretched his hand out in front of her.. “You left this at the lab. My friend, Cisco, went through your contacts to find out where you worked.”

Iris face lit up, fully, and unabashedly. “Oh my God! Thank you!” She said with a little jump and squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I thought it was gone forever!

“No problem, he said matching her energy.” _Man, was she beautiful_. “I love my phone too, so I get it.”

“Oh, not the phone. I mean, I do need it. But it has all of my work on it, and I thought I’d have to start over.” she says trailing off. “Anyway, thank you so much!”

“No problem.”

This would usually be the time that Iris would reach out and hug him. She’d always been a big hugger – something she’d inherited from her father who gave the best damn hugs in the world. But street living and the primal urge to survive had superseded that part of her personality for now.

An awkward pause followed; neither was sure what to say. A beat later, Iris said broke the silence.“Anyway, I should probably get going now.” She pointed behind her, in the direction she’d already been walking

“R-right,” Barry said, saddened their meeting was coming to an end “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” she said, genuinely. Meeting a seemingly sweet, normal guy was rare for her.

“Did you want to say something?” Iris asked when she noticed he was still standing there, pondering over what, she didn’t know.

“Oh, I-I -”

“You…”

 _Get it together, man._ He sighed, rubbing his hand up and down the back of his neck. “I-um, I know this sounds weird. But would you like to go out with me sometimes? I mean, I know that we met under weird circumstances and all, and you don’t know me from a stranger on the street, but-”

“Barry-” she said, cutting him off. “I am flattered. Truly, and you seem like a really nice guy, but I’m not really trying to date right now.”

“Oh, of course, I understand,” he said, trying to hide the disappointment on this face. Still, it slipped throughin his voice. “Have a great weekend.”

“You too, Barry.”

He nodded, then turned to leave. Iris, too, needed to get going, but there was a pang of guilt in her stomach. She didn’t usually care about turning guys down, but it had obviously taken a lot of him to approach her. And he did seem to be reasonably nice. Besides, she was in no hurry to head to the park. She’d finished her book last weekend, and she hadn’t had time to check out another out of the library. Getting a late night snack would better than forcing herself to fall asleep so she could forget about her situation.

What the hell. Iris took a step forward. Barry?” she called out to him.

He stopped, turning back. “Yeah?”

“Would you like to get a bite to eat at Ada’s?”

“N-now? Right now? You mean like at this moment?” In the off chance she’d say yes, he thought he’d have at least 24 hours to agonize and obsess over what he’d wear, how skinny his ass looked from the side, and pick over every mole on his face.

She smiled. “Yeah. It’s open 24/7 and they have amazing brownies. Unless you’re busy tonight. We can rain check.”

“NO!” He said a little too loudly, knowing he’d be a fool to turn her down. He could obsess over all of his insecurities later. “Now is good.”

“Great.”

******************************************************************

"Thanks.” Iris walked through the door that Barry Allen held open for her, and made a mental note. Most guys her age didn’t have an inkling of manners. It was nothing to praise him over, but it definitely scored him a point or two.

Inside, she led them both to her favorite booth in the corner. She settled in on one side from Barry and picked up the menu.

Iris already knew what she was going to order; it was the same thing she always ordered. One small chocolate brownie, topped with walnuts and caramel. It was one of the cheapest, yet decadent items in the entire bakery, at only 4.50. It was also packed with an ungodly amount of calories, and given everything, that was an added plus.

“So, what do you recommend?” With shaky hands, Barry picked up his own menu and began pouring over the options, which he knew would only agitate the butterflies in his stomach.

“Uhh, Sweet or savory?”

“Savory for sure. I’m not into sweets much.”

“Oh, well definitely the roast beef and swiss pita.”

Marie, the night-shift waiter approached their table with her notepad. “Hey Iris, nice to see you again; it’s been a while.”

Iris pouted. “I know, Marie. I’ve been really busy. You know, deadlines, interviews,” she said trailing off, leaving off the fact that she hadn’t been able to splurge lately. Or the fact that she honestly couldn’t afford this monthly treat tonight, but what the fucking hell.

“Yeah, it’ll pay off though soon enough. Who’s your date?” She asked turning her attention to Barry. “He’s cute,” she added, nudging Iris in the arm.

Iris smiled faintly, shaking her head. “This is Barry, and we’re just…um.”

“Friends,” Barry said finishing her sentence. “New friends.”

Iris nodded. “Right. Friends.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Barry.

Barry nodded, bashfully. “You too”

“Now, what can I get you two…platonic birds.”

“The caramel, walnut brownie,” Iris and Marie said simultaneously, causing Iris to laugh.

“You know me so well.”

“And for Barry?”

“Uhh, well, I’ve been told your roast beef and swiss pita is good,” he said looking back at Iris.

“You’ve been told right,” Marie said, jotting down their order. “Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thanks, Marie.”

“You got it.”

“She’s nice,” Barry said when she was out of earshot.

“Yeah, she is,” Iris said, setting down her menu.

“So,” Barry said, clasping his hands together. “How do you like working for CCPN?”

Iris scoffed.

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just that I’m an intern right now, and you know how that goes.”

“But you like writing.”

“Love it.I’ve always wanted to be like the next Robin Meade or Robin Roberts. “

“Rich?”

Iris laughed. “God, being rich would be amazing,” she said, thinking about all of the ways money would change her life. “But I actually meant journalists. They have the power to give voice to the powerless, report the truth, and balance the playing field for the little guys.”

Depth and beauty. “That’s really great Iris. I know you’ll get there one day.”

“Really? You don’t know me from a bag of rocks. What makes you so sure?”

“Intuition.”

“Well, I appreciate the blind support. I wish my editor felt the same way.”

“What, she gives you a hard time?”

“No. I mean, yeah. Definitely. But I think that’s just her personality. She’s just intense. And if I don’t find this big story she wants, I might get dropped from my internship

“Well, what’s she looking for?”

Iris rolled her eyes.“Something I have no chance in hell of a landing. Basically, she wants me to produce an interview that a veteran reporter could only get.”

“Well, maybe she thinks you can pull it off.”

“Maybe. Or maybe she likes seeing me stress myself out.”

“Oof. Sounds like my boss,” Barry said laughing.

“Really? Where do you work?”

“CC-“

“Oh can you hold on one second please,” Iris said, as her phone chirped.

“Sure.”

“Sorry Captain. Um, I’m actually not home yet. But I’m safe. And warm. Yes, fed. Yes, I will call you if I need anything. Okay, goodnight?”

“Boyfriend?” Barry asked, bracing himself for bad news.

“Oh, no. A friend of my dad’s. He’s been kind of overprotective of me since he died last year.”

He frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not. But he’d been sick for a while, so I knew it was coming,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Anyway, enough about me, Barry. Um, how are you healing? I meant to check back in with your friends, but I lost my phone and 1000 other things happened.”

“Oh, I’m doing pretty good.”

“Well, you sure do look amazing. You know, I mean, for a guy that almost died. Not that you don’t look nice.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, I heal fast. I must have good genes,” he said, not exactly lying.

“Apparently. I was sure your ribs were broken, but I guess that’s why I’m a writer and not a doctor.”

He chuckled. “No, no broken ribs. I looked a lot worse than I was” he said, totally lying. “How would that even be possible, you know? Unless I was The Flash. Which I definitely am not,” he added quickly.

Iris smiled gently, remembering the little blip in the park. “Oh right,” she said. “You’re ‘the Flash.’”

“ _Not_ the Flash.”

“Right – _not_ The Flash” she said, unable to contain her endearment. That must have been a hell of a concussion. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Well, I have my guardian angel to thank for that,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s no problem,” she said, adding quickly. “What happened to you again?”

“Mugger,” Barry offered up a little too quickly for her liking. “Two of them.”

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

Barry nodded. “Oh, well like I said, guardian angel. Only more beautiful.” His cheeks turned bright pink when realized he’d said that out loud.

Iris smiled, her own cheeks flushing pink as she caught the adoration in his piercing green eyes. Already, this was the best date she’d had in three years, and it wasn’t even official.

“Here you go, Iris” Marie said smirking looking between the two of them. She set Iris’s brownie in front of her. “And for you, Barry. A fresh, hot, roast beef and swiss.”

Iris pushed her hair behind her ears, concealing a smile, slightly embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed Marie approaching. It only lasted a moment, but for the first time in forever, she’d had been completely unaware of her surroundings, or what time it was, or how many many hours of daylight or darkness were left.

And it felt good. Better than good. It felt great.

“What?” He asked, noticing the subtle blush on her cheeks.

“I’m just really happy that you asked me out. Life has been so stressful, sometimes, I forget to just let myself have a little fun. Thank you for this”

Barry ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “It’s my pleasure.”

There were those eyes of his again. Open wide, filled with warmth and wonder. Whatever it was, they were stirring up feelings inside of her she hadn’t felt it God knows how long.

“So..um, what do you do?” Iris said, changing the subject before she completely lost her composure. She took a bite of her ooey, gooey brownie, which brought her right back down to the ground.

“Oh, I’m a CSI for CCPD. Been there just over a year.”

Iris grew quiet, the smile falling off of her face slowly.“Oh, that’s very nice,“ she concealing her frustration.

Or trying too. But the mood change had been clear as day. Especially to Barry.

“What - what’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

“Oh, no. Barry. Not at all. Do you know what? I just remembered this thing I was supposed to do.”

“But we just got here.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I really have to take care of it tonight.”

“Oh, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Iris said. As she rummaged through her tote bag in search of her wallet. She had all of 52 dollars left, until her next payday which was a full week away. She pulled out the crinkled 5 dollar bill she’d found on the floor of the library, and sat it down next to her plate. She then grabbed a napkin, and wrapped her half-eaten brownie in it, before stuffing it inside of her purse, then rose from her seat.

“Well, can I have your phone number? So we can keep in touch?”

Iris bit her lip, pondering over it momentarily, then sighed, her face rife with stress. “Look, Barry, this was really nice. You’re a really nice guy, but my life is very full at the moment. Okay?”

His face fell, and she felt awful but she didn’t know how else to say it. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“Bye Barry,” she said, in a tone that was too finite for her liking.

**************************************************************

##  **Saturday Morning  
**

Barry Allen walked into Singh’s office nearly an hour late, a frown decorating his face. “You wanted to see me, Sir?” He asked voice leveled as possible, but honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to get chewed out over being a few minutes late. Not after the night, he’d had.

After Iris rushed out on him, he’d had trouble getting to sleep, thinking about it most of the night. He was no expert on women, but she seemed to like him after she warmed up to him of course. And while it was probably too soon to plan their wedding he, at least, thought they’d get through their first date.

“Yeah, I did. But first, tell me…why the long face, Allen?”

“Oh you don’t wanna know, sir.”

“Humor me, Allen. Your post-teen angst helps get me through my day.”

Barry let out a fake chuckle. “Funny.”

“Out with it, kid.”

Barry sighed.“ Last night I had a date – well sort of –with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She was absolutely breathtaking, I mean she could easily have been a model.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem, so I imagine and you struck out?”

“Worse. She rushed out before the date even ended. Said something came up.”

“Maybe it did.”

“I mean, maybe. But we were really hitting things off until I told her I worked here as a CSI. She must think I’m a huge nerd or something.”

Singh laughed.

“What’s funny?”

“You are, Allen. But there’s nothing wrong with that. You are you who are.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m serious. Any woman would be lucky to have you, and I mean that.”

Barry nodded slowly. “Well, thank you, sir.”

“What did you say her name was again?”

“Iris. Iris West.”

Singh paused, eyes wide, everything making sense.

“What? What am I missing.”

“Barry,” he said, before trailing off. “Don’t beat yourself up too bad about her leaving. It probably wasn’t even about you.”

“How do you know?”

Singh pinched his lips together and ran a hand through his hair. “I know, Iris Barry. Personally.”

“Like romantically?” Barry asked, scrunching his face up.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. She’s like a daughter to me.”

“Oh?” He asked, just as confused as before.

“Her father, Joe West was one of the station’s best detectives before he had to leave the force about two years ago due to an illness. He died about a year later.”

“Oh yeah, she told me about that. He left before I was hired. So wait. You’re the friend that called her last night?”

“Yeah. I check on her as much as I can.”

“That’s nice. So can you tell me is something going on?”

“No.”

“Please, Singh. You know I’ll keep the information safe. Iris is the first person I’ve felt a connection within God knows how long.”

“She is amazing, isn’t she?”

Barry nodded. “More than amazing.”

Singh let out a harsh breath. “Tell her I told you, and you’re dead, Allen.”

Barry nodded.

******************************************************************

##  **Saturday Evening  
**

“Homeless?” Nora Allen asked face scrunched. “The woman you saved you?.”

Barry huffed and took a seat at the dinner table across from his mother. “Apparently, she’s been homeless for a year. Singh’s tried to get her help but he says she’s very headstrong and stubborn. Like her father was.”

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that, Barry. I was hoping you too hit it off,” Henry offered.

“Singh thinks she ran out because of where I work. That she thought I’d make the connection, and judge her I guess.”

“That must be hard. Too bad she didn't’ realize what a sweetheart you were.” Barry’s mom leaned over and placed a thoughtful hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her; he always knew how to comfort him.

“So. Does she being homeless change how you feel about her?” His dad asked.

“Of course not. But honestly, it’s not even about that at the moment. I know I don’t know her very well, and I can’t explain it but, now I can’t stop worrying about her. Being out on the streets alone at night in this city? Full of criminals and metahumans? I-”

Henry piled his plate with salad and fixings, then passed it on to his son, but Barry refused. His stomach was in knots. To make matters worse, his heart was sitting on top of it Nora turned to Henry and gave him a knowing look. He nodded at his wife, then turned back to Barry.

“Son, you said that you two made a connection right?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think we did.”

“Then talk to her. Don’t ambush her or anything. But see if you can get her to open up to you.”

“That’s it?”

“Well yeah. Think about the position she’s in. She’s vulnerable, decided to take a chance on a guy, which couldn’t have been easy.“

“She realized what I’ve known all your life: that you’re a handsome, sweet funny guy,” Nora interjected.

“Mom,” Barry said, embarrassed.

Henry cleared his throat, chuckling. "Nora.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t take off my mother’s hat. Continue, dear.”

“Then found out that same guy works with the man who knows her situation,“ Henry continued. "She’s obviously afraid of being found out. If you want to help her, even as a friend, you have to make her trust you, that you’re worth confiding in. Until then, she’s going to keep running.”

 _Running._ Barry’s face shown blank, but inside the wheels were spinning round, and round. _Running. Running. Running_. Suddenly, he knew just how he could help Iris. **  
**

“Did you hear me son,” Henry asked, when Barry didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah. Build trust, yada, yada, yada,” Barry rose from his chair and threw on his jacket. s

“Barry, where are you going?”

“I have to take care of something,” he said, enthusiastically. "But thanks for the talks guys. Best parents a guy could ask for,” he added before speeding away.

Nora laughed, shaking her head.

“What?”

“That sure is your child. Just as hard headed as you used to be.”


End file.
